Genetic Perfection
by Starkreactor
Summary: The Graverobber has bitten off more than he can chew in teasing Amber's soliders and ends up wounded. While caring for him, Shilo learns something interesting about his place in the post-plague world. Not a ship fic- friendship and father/daughter. One shot. Whump. T for injuries.


So I've completely been consumed by Repo, and, naturally, Graverobber is my favorite. This came to me while considering his character. Forgive if the timeline is off, but me and my friend both could not for the life of us figure out when the plague actually hit, so I worked with what I have.

This is not a Shilo/Graverobber fic, though I can't stop you if you put your goggles on. I simply like them as a more friendship/father-daughter sort of relationship, and feel like there needs to be more non-shipping for those of us who don't want it.

That being said, fluff and whump are prevalent.

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**GRAVE ROBBERS WILL BE EXECUTED ON SIGHT_. _**

A bullet ping sounded off the unbending sign as a figure darted past it. The blur of motion rushed through the blackened cemetery, invasive darts of light chasing on his heels and disturbing whatever peace the dead had left.

The Robber could feel the adrenaline rushing through him as he darted from grave to grave, the exhilaration of the chase making him pant and quiver with energy. Back pressed against the thick stone of a gritty headstone, he checked his stash. Three little vials of illumination glowed softly inside his coat, tucked protectively against his chest. Three vials full before the guards had shown up, so not bad considering. Ever since Amber had taken over Geneco his job had gotten harder. He had a feeling Amber was getting him back for all the times he'd made her pay for her fix. Ungrateful little b-

He was on the move again. Heavy footsteps pounded behind him and his shadow convulsed on the ground in front of him as the darting beams of light targeted his retreating form. Glancing behind himself only briefly to ascertain how close they were, he veered sharply to the right, catching his shoulder painfully on a standing obelisk. He bit in a cry as he forced himself to go faster, hoping he hadn't just dislocated his shoulder from his reckless move. His shoulder jarred painfully as he took on another burst of speed, knowing he was only feet away from the crypt that would lead to the abandoned chapel where he kept his stash and his bed.

He was inches away when a point of pressure hit his left shoulder and he pitched forward violently, narrowly missing hitting his head on the top of the overgrown tunnel. He tucked his chin to his chest instinctively as he tumbled forward, a throbbing agony ripping through his body and originating from his shoulders. He choked and gasped for breath once coming to a stop, the dust in the air clogging lungs that were struggling to draw air. His diaphragm seized as he tried to cope with the wind being knocked out of his body. Jaw locked open, he froze in a half kneeling position, his torso arched and head back. Finally, _finally_ he was able to draw breath and he immediately expelled it again in a deep-chested fit of coughing. The lights darted in above him, filtering in through the tangle of weeds and decay above him like sunlight through dirty water. The dust filled the air and continued to kick up as the Robber scrambled to his feet, booking it down the tunnel and into a side chamber, getting as far away as he could.

It was in this calculated stumble that the Graverobber barely made his escape. Pausing to look over his shoulder and hold his gasping breath in long enough to listen, the Robber realized he'd lost his pursuers. Letting out the breath that had become painful to hold, he gasped, body starting to quiver from pain and over-exertion as the adrenaline started to subside. He barely made it to the crypt he'd cleaned out enough to live in. Stumbling, he made it to the low bed in one corner, collapsing onto it. No longer dulled by the natural drug in his system, he cried out as his injured shoulders sent violent pain signals to his brain.

"Robbie, what happened?" A concerned voice suddenly cut in, as Shilo lifted a tattered tapestry and ducked under it, her own special entrance to his secret home. She rushed over to his bed and knelt by him, hands hovering as she wanted to help him, but afraid to touch him.

"Got into a bit of an, altercation with Amber's boys." He said, gritting his teeth through the pain and giving her a cheeky grin. "Pretty sure they hit my shoulder."

"Let me help you." Shilo said, concern furrowing her brow as she placed a hand on the middle of his back, to help him sit up. He struggled to right himself as he couldn't use either arm to support his weight. The fleeting thought that these injuries, if not properly taken care of, could impede his job, streaked through his mind. It wasn't a pleasant realization, but it was soon banished by another strangled cry as his shoulders jarred. It was two very different kinds of pain. One, throbbing and tight, the other deep and hot, piercing.

"I'm sorry." Shilo said anxiously, tucking a lock of black hair behind her ear nervously. Her hair was only shoulder-length now, but that was because at the end of the Opera she'd decided to quit wearing the wig and let her actual hair grow, now that she knew she could. At this length though, it kept falling in her face.

"Just a little pain, nothing I haven't experienced before." He said, as nonchalantly as he could.

"Here, help me get your coat and shirt off." Shilo said, bracing him up with a hand on his back.

"I don't think I can." He admitted, realizing that moving his shoulders was far too painful.

"Okay, well, let me try something." Shilo said, assessing his right shoulder, which looked unnatural underneath his coat. Bracing her hands firmly against either side of the inflamed joint, Shilo gave a harsh push and heard the satisfying click as the Robber's shoulder popped back into place. He let out a strangled yelp at the unexpected sensation, but he was now able to move that arm.

"Hack." He mumbled, as Shilo worked with him to get his coat off. Shilo gave him a disapproving look.

"Would you rather I had left your shoulder dislocated?" She asked obstinately. "I thought you were used to pain."

The Graverobber just gave her a withering look. He was in pain and not in the mood.

Shilo gave a long-suffering sigh and helped him work his thick coat off his shoulders, as gently as she could. It took her a moment to realize that the wetness under her left hand was blood. Throat closing in worry, Shilo pulled the leather the rest of the way from his shoulder to reveal a heavily bleeding gunshot wound that looked like it had passed beneath his collarbone.

"Oh Robbie.." Shilo murmured, her nickname for him slipping out again in her concern. Hastily, she shed the jacket she'd been wearing over her corset and pressed it to his wound, trying to stem the bleeding. He hissed and swore in pain, jerking away some from her touch.

"Look, I'm sorry, but if you're going to tease Amber's guards like that this is going to happen." Shilo said, taking off the pressure long enough to help him work his shirt off. She bit her lip as she saw the blood soaking the fabric and trickling down his pale back, trying not to think about how close that bullet came to piercing something more vital. "You need to be more careful." She admonished gently, worry lacing her tone. He had lost a lot of blood.

"Did it pass through?" He asked through gritted teeth, trying to look at the front of his shoulder for a hopefully clean exit wound.

Shilo disliked the fact that he was ignoring her worry, but she pushed those feelings aside and examined his wound as closely as she could in the dim light. "I can't tell. It looks like it, but the last thing you need is an infection." She said, pressing her jacket to the wound again. Thankfully, the bleeding was slowing. It looked like the Robber had barely missed having his subclavian artery severed. "Hold this, I'm going to make a fire." Shilo said, placing his rough hand against her jacket.

Moving across the crypt from his bed, Shilo gathered up some brush and lit the sparse hackings of wood that occupied the make-shift fireplace. Presently, the flames lept up, illuminating the entire room with a warm, golden glow that seemed to suck the cold right out. Graverobber didn't seem to be noticing. Between the night air, lack of upper clothing and blood loss, he was starting to shiver.

Moving him to sit as close to the fire as they could, Shilo proceeded over the next hour to fetch and boil water, clean his wound, extract two bullet fragments, and bind his shoulder. While she worked, he sat still, his body looking weary as he slumped near the fire, forcing himself to stay awake and focused. As callous as he was being, the last thing he wanted to do was upset her by passing out.

Her worry made him feel bad for being so reckless. Ever since Nathan had died, the Graverobber had been a sort of surrogate father to Shilo, and even though she'd learned a lot over the past year and a half, she was still a child in many ways and he felt responsible for her. If he got killed, how would she take it?

More importantly, who would protect her from Amber?

"So what did you get done?" Shilo asked, almost conversationally as she wrapped his shoulder carefully.

He turned his head to look at her, an utter look of puzzlement on his features. "What?"

"You know," She said, gesturing to his torso. "I've never asked before, what did you get done? It must have been a careful procedure." She commented, realizing how smooth and near flawless his skin was. The firelight flickered over his well muscled body, but revealed no scars, no tell-tale signs of the operation he must have had at some point.

"Nothing."

Her eyebrows jumped. "You mean you've never had a GeneCo operation?" She asked, astonished.

He shook his head, turning around to face her and slumping against the only other piece of furniture he had, a small dresser to the right of the fireplace. "I steal and make my living by sneaking around under their noses, why would I want to give them anything for something I don't need?"

"You mean the plague didn't effect you?" Shilo asked, sitting Indian-style across from him.

He shook his head, his long hair falling around his shoulders. "Not in the way it got everyone else."

"But-" Her brow furrowed. "That means all your organs grew naturally with you."

He chuckled darkly, his deep voice showing amusement. "Novel concept, isn't it?"

Shilo moved over to sit next to him, tucking her knees up against her chest and taking comfort from the warmth his body afforded her as she pressed into his side gently. He glanced down at her, not used to the physical affection, but not stopping her. It felt kinda nice, knowing she was touching him for no other reason than she enjoyed his presence. The only time he'd been touched in the past several years was by druggies wanting a fix of one kind or another. There was a marked difference.

"I just got to assuming that everyone had something changed about them, so it's weird to think that you were born with your body just like this." She said, gesturing to him.

He nodded, stretching his legs out with a wince. He was starting to feel the stiffness and bruising from his fall down the stairs.

"Hold on, if you haven't had surgery, then what is this?" Shilo asked, touching a scar on his lower right abdomen that had just become visible as his torso uncurled. He glanced down at it.

"That wasn't GeneCo, and it wasn't an implant or a replacement. I got appendicitis when I was eight and had to have it removed."

"Wait, that was before the epidemic." Shilo said, counting in her head for a moment.

He nodded. "That's why I still had the option of going under the knife from someone other than GeneCo."

Shilo absorbed the information for a moment, glancing at her companion. His head was leaning back against the cabinet, his features bathed and softly chiseled out in the firelight. He was so peaceful for a moment Shilo's concern increased, but his steady breathing showed he was only resting.

"Robbie?"

The Graverobber didn't open his eyes, he just grunted to show he was listening.

"Can-" She swallowed, feeling stupid for asking such a thing. "Can I put my head on your chest? I mean- it won't aggravate your injuries, will it?"

This time he did open his eyes and turned to look at her. His brow was furrowed as he studied her. "Why?"

She shrugged, hugging her knees timidly. It seemed like such a stupid request. "Well, because- I wanted to know what a real heartbeat sounds like." She said quietly.

The Robber frowned. "You've never heard a heartbeat before?"

She shook her head, relieved that he wasn't acting, well, any differently than he was. "I did, once. But it was a GeneCo modified heart. I want to know what a _real_ heart sounds like."

Though the Robber did find the request odd, he didn't immediately respond. If nothing else, he could understand the need to find something pure. There was a reason that when he realized his liver needed a break from drinking he quit drinking instead of running to GeneCo for another. He was sneaky enough he could get away with it and still continue his drug peddling, but that wasn't the point. He'd rather die than let GeneCo be his savior.

Shilo took his silence for denial and she apologized. "Sorry, I know that's a weird request." She sighed, avoiding his gaze.

"No," he said slowly. "I don't mind. Just don't bump my shoulder."

Shilo turned back to him, looking embarrassed. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I get it kid. It's ok."

Gently, almost reverently, Shilo reached an arm across his torso and snuggled into his chest, hesitantly laying her ear against his warm skin.

His heartbeat was a thick, warm, solid sound, not what she was expecting. Steady, strong, and grounding. She closed her eyes, concentrating on the difference- and what a difference there was. The other heart had a click- a sort of catch in the beat. Something modified, metallic, and perfected. It had a rhythmic, mechanical kind of consistency that had made sense to Shilo at the time.

The Robber's heart was fluctuating, but powerful, and she could feel the gentle thump that it resonated from behind his breastbone. The deep sound was much more real and..._alive_. There was no click, or metallic regularity. Shilo decided then and there that a natural heart was the most soothing thing she had ever heard.

Come to think about it, being pressed up against the Robber's body was the most safe she had ever felt. Somehow, the knowledge that nothing about him was fake or modified made her trust in him make sense. He had an integrity that it seemed very few had left.

Shilo was so comfortable she didn't want to move. She was warm, and now she was getting sleepy.

"Hey kid, you alive?" The Robber asked after a few minutes, poking her shoulder playfully.

"Mhmh." She mumbled, not wanting to move.

"Glad I could help you out and all, but I need to go lay down. My shoulders are killing me."

Shilo started off of him. "Sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." He grunted, shifting as best he could without using his shoulders too much. "Help me to the bed though?" He asked.

Shilo braced her hands against his ribcage and helped him stand, letting him lean on her as he moved stiffly over to his bed. He sunk heavily onto it, as she pushed his coat roughly out of the way so he had room to sit. In moving the clothing, Shilo knocked a syringe of Zydrate out of the breast pocket and she turned her head at the sound of it falling to the floor and rolling towards a wall.

"You had more Zydrate and you didn't tell me?" Shilo said accusingly.

"Hey kid, if you wanted a hit all you had to do was ask." He said dismissively, laying down gingerly on his back. Everything hurt.

"No, you know I don't take that stuff. I meant for you. You could have been out all this time!"

He cracked an eye open, looking up at her from his vertical position. "What makes you think I ever want that stuff in my blood?"

Shilo hesitated "Well, the pain-"

"Is natural. Just like the rest of me. And I want to keep it that way." He closed his eyes again. "Now, if it's all the same to you, kid I'm really tired."

Shilo stared at the glowing vial a few feet away from her, the Robber's words sinking in. She moved to the wall and picked the syringe up and tucked it carefully back into his coat, glancing up at him as she did so. He was breathing steadily and slowly- already deeply asleep. Folding his coat carefully, she placed it at the foot of his bed and began working to get the blood out of his shirt, keeping the fire going and listening to the living crackle of burning wood and the unaltered sound of the Robber's quiet breathing.

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Reviews rewarded with a little glass vial ;)


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